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by CinnaAtHeart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mild Angst, Natasha Is a Good Bro, but only to Darcy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 03:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7417576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnaAtHeart/pseuds/CinnaAtHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the most part, dating an Avenger has its benefits. </p>
<p>For one, having the freedom to live in the same place is awesome, and she and Clint ‘christened’ more than a few places around the tower in their enthusiasm. Moreover, the avenging lifestyle demands a certain… physique, and never will she be caught mourning the fact that Clint can carry her around because holy wow those biceps. </p>
<p>Major downsides though? Oh, there are plenty.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [fanaticreader16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanaticreader16/gifts).



> For the lovely [sarbear1610](http://sarbear1610.tumblr.com/), who was one of the runner ups for my fic giveaway. XD Hope you enjoy this sugar! <3

For the most part, dating an Avenger has its benefits.

For one, having the freedom to live in the same place is _awesome_ , and she and Clint ‘christened’ more than a few places around the tower in their enthusiasm. Moreover, the avenging lifestyle demands a certain… physique, and _never_ will she be caught mourning the fact that Clint can carry her around because holy _wow_ those biceps.

Major downsides though? Oh, there are plenty.

Missed dates. Living in a veritable fishbowl with other ‘strong personalities’. The _testosterone._ And of course, the major bummer? The constant and occasionally crippling fear for their safety.  

A well-founded fear, Darcy knows. And one that she’s yet to master, despite hitting their two-year anniversary just last week. It’s gotten to the point where she’s stopped watching the live coverage of their fights, too wrapped up in the terror of losing Clint- one of the only baseline humans on the team- or one of their friends.

Even so, she’s waiting for the phone call, and the anxiety never dissipates until Clint walks through their door.

On this particular night she waits for him on the couch, wrapped in blankets and precariously balancing an empty tub of ice cream on her stomach, staring blankly at the television that plays Black Books for the umpteenth time. She’s been sitting in here for hours, skin itching with the urge to move, yet unable to muster the energy to do so. Every line of her body is drawn taut, the tension of waiting (and today’s wait has been _long_. So very long) likely to give her a hernia at some point, but Darcy waits faithfully for the man she loves to come through that door.

She hears, as if in a dream, the sound of the biometrics beeping in approval and Darcy feels as though the life has been poured back into her veins. She throws herself from the couch, uncaring of the empty ice cream carton and spoon that flies across the room and waits with baited breath, watching the door open. Her breath escapes her lungs as Clint and Natasha limp through, looking dirty and bruised but _alive_.

“Clint,” she breathes, and he gives her a tired smile. He leans heavily against Natasha and Darcy doesn’t miss the cast around his foot. She hesitates.

“Darce,” Clint sighs, and holds out his free arm for her. She needs no further permission, and launches herself at him, moulding herself around him and just taking a moment to _breathe_. He stinks of gunpowder and dust and sweat and Darcy doesn’t care one iota, clinging to him as though her strings have been cut and Clint’s not much better, burying his nose in her hair and breathing in deeply.

“You’re okay,” she whispers and Clint sighs heavily, kissing her hair.

“I know baby,” he rumbles, the comfort of his words vibrating through her chest and warming her right down to her bones. “I’m okay- we’re okay… missed you.”

“Love you too,” she says, and he squeezes her waist tightly, breath shaky against her ear.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

She laughs breathily. “Something good, I hope.”

“Musta been. Lord knows it wasn’t the carnies though.”

“What happened?” she asks, voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t tell her,” Clint mumbles, sounding embarrassed, and Darcy tries to pull away but her boyfriend only holds her tighter.

“He tripped on some rocks,” Natasha says blithely. Clint groans into Darcy’s hair.

“Aw Nat. Did you hafta tell her?”

Darcy laughs and Clint finally lets her pull away, just enough to look at their friend. Natasha is smirking. Even banged up and covered in grease, she is beautiful.

“Don’t blame me Barton. It’s your own fool fault.”

“I was distracted!”

“By Steve’s own misfortune, I know.” She rolls her eyes, extricating herself from Clint and looking ready to leave. Darcy makes a negative sound in the back of her throat as Clint leans against her a little heavier.

“Hey you!” she exclaims, and Natasha pauses, sending Darcy a raised eyebrow. “C’mere first.” She holds her arm out and Natasha folds easily enough, joining in on their borderline uncomfortable hug. “Thank you,” she murmurs against Natasha’s ear. The woman just nods mutely and holds on a little tighter. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Aw, thanks Darce-”

“Wasn’t talking to you, Barton.” Natasha laughs and Clint makes an insulted noise. “Can’t you see Nat and I were having a conversation?”

He grunts unhappily. “Fine, I can see where I’m unwanted,” he grumbles, but doesn’t move to leave. They stand there for what feels like forever, until eventually Natasha edges away. They let her leave and Darcy gasps when Clint nuzzles at her neck, breath hot against her skin.

“Nat!” she calls out before the woman walks out the door. Natasha pauses, looking over her shoulder questioningly. Darcy grins at her. “You still good for Thursday?”

Natasha laughs, the sound husky and warm. “Looking forward to it,” she purrs, giving her a wave before exiting, the door hissing quietly shut behind her.

A moment of silence. Then-

“What’s on Thursday?”

Darcy nuzzles at his neck, pressing a kiss to the heated skin visible at the edge of his vest. “None’ya.”

Clint makes a wounded sound, and Darcy gasps when a hand creeps down and squeezes her ass. “Rude.”

“Says you! You should know better than to ask. Thursdays are girl’s nights!” To punctuate her point, she nips at the soft skin beneath his jaw. Clint yelps.

“That’s not fair! I’m injured! You should be taking care of me!”

Darcy snorts and pulls away, helping him hobble over to the sofa. “What am I going to do with you, you hopeless, beautiful man?” she asks wonderingly. Clint reaches out and pauses the television, still blaring on in the background.

“Well…” he looks up at her slyly, and Darcy’s stomach flops. God she is so unfairly in love with this idiot of a man. “You could start with a blow job?”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come and chat with me on [tumblr](http://cinnaatheart.tumblr.com/) :D


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